Page 4 of Master (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #3)

Clara

Thank you, Jesus!

Sending up a prayer of thanks that the first alien I’d have to fuck was the gorgeous guy I’d noticed and not a blob of Jello with stick arms seemed appropriate in the situation.

My friend Daisy had been married to a minister—I’d ask if I ever saw her again I'd ask about the liturgical considerations, in the meantime. …

Thank you, Jesus!

Up close, much more gorgeous than I first thought.

His tan skin wasn’t skin at all but a pelt with a short nap that reminded me of velvet.

Tall, muscular, and dressed head to toe in black leather with thick hair that appeared chestnut in the light with the length pulled into a sexy man bun.

His bright gold eyes flickered over my body, my skin fizzing with heat.

The blue gown fell from my frozen fingertips, landing on the floor in front of me with the faintest thump.

“It’s you.”

The words fell from my lips involuntarily, and the way his golden eyes widened at the sound of my voice made my skin tingle.

The pink lace contraption I wore barely covered the necessary body parts, and I felt heat creep along my skin, accompanied along with a flash of though—a wish he found me beautiful.

Where the heck did that come from?

I should care less what he thought about my looks, yet when his golden eyes traveled the expanse of my body, appreciation crossing his features, I felt proud and immensely powerful.

I did as trained, striding to the door and pressing the large black button next to the doorframe. The action would turn on a red light outside, indicating I entertained a client. Luarian would be so happy.

He appeared startled as he looked at me, especially when I squared my shoulders, walked over, and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s get to it, big boy.”

I turned toward the bed, tugging him along behind me… which was like trying to move a bus. I glanced back, catching a wash of confusion flicker over his handsome features.

“Are you?” He swallowed hard. “Are you sure, little one?”

What the hell did he think was going to happen in here? Plastering on my best come-hither smile, I tugged at his hand.

“Of course, I’m sure.”

Granted, if I had my choice, I’d spend the night alone drinking wine and eating the alien version of bonbons, but Luarian had been plain.

And I was smart enough to know that despite being the futuristic equivalent of a saloon girl, my chances of survival were much better staying put on this ship until I could figure a way to escape.

And if God, fate or whatever, decided my first customer would be an alien version Jamie Frasier, I wasn’t about to balk at the gift.

Smiling, I walked backward, pulling him along until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed.

I sat, feeling awkward and unsure. I hadn’t tried to seduce anyone in close to forty years, although from the growing strain against the crotch of his leather breeches, I didn’t think there was much need for seduction.

Releasing his hands, I leaned back, propping myself upon my elbows and arching my back. My boobs were always my best feature, and in this pink Fredericks of Hollywood get-up they looked fantastic, if I did say so myself.

Mr. Gorgeous Alien seemed to think so too. His golden eyes centered on my chest as the tip of his tongue made a slow foray around the edge of his lips.

His lips.

Shit.

Kissing?

Did aliens kiss?

My mind raced over the last few days and despite the extreme levels of debauchery I’d witnessed both on film and in person, there hadn’t been kissing.

I might have to fuck this guy to survive, but I didn’t have to kiss him.

Kissing was special, intimate, that precious moment when two people allowed themselves to explore the promise of something between them.

Even now, after all this time, I could feel the tentative, nervous touch of Curtis’ lips against mine the first time we’d kissed. I wouldn’t taint that memory.

I debated asking Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hot as hell if he kissed, but feared bringing up the subject might make him want to. No, I’d just avoid his attempts and claim to have some human disease communicable by saliva.

The same went for asking his name. Somehow, knowing his name would make it personal between us. I needed to avoid that. I needed to keep it clinical—like a gynecologist's visit. This was a business transaction. He had the cash. I provided the service.

I could do this.

The golden orbs studied me. In a movement so slow his fingers trembled, he raised his hand and buried his fingers in the strands of hair near my cheek.

On Earth, I’d always blown my wavy tresses straight.

Aliens didn’t believe in blow dryers. The shower was a one stop, do it all with a blast of warm air following lather, rinse, and repeat.

“So small and soft.” He whispered, his voice gruff and throaty. His fingertips left my hair to trail along my cheek. “So beautiful.”

Flame flickered low in my belly. I tried to ignore it.

In a movement so graceful it drew a gasp from my lips, the alien shifted onto his knees. My legs were slightly parted, but he made no move to intrude. Instead, his warm, callused fingers traced over my face, neck, and shoulders.

Not going to lie, his touch felt wonderful. Better than I wanted it to. How the hell was I supposed to keep things clinical and business like with these little sparks of electricity traveling all over my body?

It’s just because I haven’t had sex in a long time.

A really long time.

The last couple of years of Curtis’ illness, a simple kiss was enough to exhaust him. After he died… it just seemed like a betrayal despite the numerous times my friend Agnes tried to set me up. I told my loins to behave themselves and made myself smile at him.

He leaned forward, tilting his face toward the curve of my neck.

Despite the tingle of anticipation, worried imaginings crept into play.

One species mentioned during my training were the Urapira.

While they didn’t have the same habits as Earth’s version of vampires, they did like to bite and taste blood during sex.

Well, at least I got the one that favored Edward Cullen more than Nosferatu.

His face moved closer to my skin, and I tensed, waiting for the pain of a bite.

Large warm palms settled over my shoulders, and I felt the tip of his nose touch the sensitive skin.

He inhaled.

A slow, deep breath that made strands of my hair flutter against my skin. When his breath released, it did so in the form of a heavy sigh with the faintest groan of pleasure at the end, as though my scent was delicious to him.

Damn.

Now that was sexy.

I turned my head, our faces just inches apart.

His gold eyes burned like twin suns, but the fingertips stroking my cheek and neck were feathers.

I let myself draw in a breath, his spicy, musky scent flooding my senses.

He must be giving off pheromones like crazy… any resistance left in me evaporated.

“Are you sure, little one?” He asked again in a husky tone.

Part of me wanted to scream no . Yet in that moment, a baser part of me surged forth. A part that, for this moment in time, wanted more.

“Yes,” I whispered, my throat parched with anticipation. “I’m sure.”

A smile quirked his lips as callused fingers moved with a practiced slowness, gently slipping the straps from my shoulders.

I had prepared myself for an awkward and fumbling encounter.

In reality, his every move treated me as if I were fragile and delicate.

His every touch was careful and deliberate, giving the impression that he was handling something precious and rare.

The pink lace thing fell to my waist, exposing my breasts.

It wasn’t cool in the room. In fact, the temperature seemed just south of a sauna, but gooseflesh rippled across my exposed skin.

Having male eyes on me was nothing new, but his golden gaze roamed over my flesh slowly with reverence, the cadence of his breath quickening.

“So beautiful,” the deep husky voice said, warm breath tickling the curve of my neck.

His hands remained on my shoulders, lips still inches from my neck, and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Are you sure?"

Obeying some primal urge, my hand lifted to cup his jaw. His skin felt like warm velvet, and his spicy scent made me feel a bit drunk.

“I’m sure,” I said and meant it.

His lips nipped along my neck, traveling over my shoulder and downward. I held my breath and the first touch of his mouth against my nipple brought forth a low moan from some part of my soul long since forgotten.

He traced a path of heat over my skin, every kiss igniting a fire within me.

With each tender touch, he paid homage to the curve of my breasts, tracing the swell and dip with his lips.

My nipples stood at attention, yearning for his touch as he bestowed gentle kisses on first one breast, then the other.

The sensation felt like being bathed in warm honey, the sweetness seeping through my entire body.

I couldn't help but arch my back, offering myself completely to his ministrations.

With every touch, shivers raced down my spine and elicited soft moans from my lips.

I couldn’t believe how turned on I was.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself gazing at him.

His dark hair fell loose from the bun and cascaded over his shoulder, framing his chiseled face in a way that could only be described as dreamy.

As he leaned over me, tending to my needs with practiced skill, a surge of desire curled in my belly, spreading through me like a wildfire.

Each movement caused my heart rate to quicken, and my body tingled with anticipation.

The lustful thoughts swirling in my mind went lower and lower, igniting an intense craving for more.

I didn’t expect this.